Birth of a Mother (Parts 1 - 3)

Part One

It's taken me over a decade to share this part of my life with anyone. So much shame and self loathing and self blame often kept me from sharing this intimate window into my journey to becoming the one thing I always wanted to be: a mother.

My family always had other aspirations for me. My love of a good debate, my deeply rooted belief in Justice and my ability to tell a story that informed and entertained had my family telling me repeatedly “You should be a lawyer. You should be a Judge. You should be a journalist. You should be a foreign correspondent and tell the world what they don't have a chance to know.” The truth was I didn't want to be any of those things.

There was one family member who really nailed it though. It was after my Grampa's big heart attack and he was in the hospital. A lot of people didn't think he'd make it so all the aunts and uncles and cousins came to the farmhouse. The grown-ups stayed at the hospital but us kids and my great grandmother stayed at Grammy and Grampa's farm anxiously awaiting word from the hospital. I was the oldest of the cousins and it fell to me to orchestrate where everyone would sleep and how to entertain the younger kids while Grammy Mac took care of the cooking. Oddly, I didn't feel overwhelmed at all. I was eleven years old and the responsibilities I was given felt easy even during that frightening first night.

When the crisis was over and we knew Grampa would be coming home one day, all the aunts and uncles and my parents came to collect us children and I'll never forget the words that changed my view of my future life. My Grammy Mac said to my parents, as she held me up with one arm about my waist to keep me from falling asleep from the exhaustion of worry that had plagued me for two days, “Tanya was such a good little mother hen. She's got a mother's heart. You've got a great young lady here.”

And that's when I knew that's what I wanted to be, not a lawyer, not a teacher, not a judge...I wanted to be a Mommy.

Part 2

After two failed attempts at college life, I dropped out after Sophomore Year. I simply wasn't engaged by anything and the bulk of my time was spent with a high school sweetheart that I followed to the University after high school graduation for fear of losing him. What I never could have guessed about myself was that I was the one who was about to become lost. My head was turned by so many new social situations and the large variety of young men from all over the world were absolutely more captivating than the subjects I spent very little time studying. All of a sudden I felt I was a student of Life and failing miserably at it and the academics for which I was shelling out a lot of money.

Then, at a Fraternity Party, I ran into a man I'd had my eye on all first semester but too timid to strike up a conversation with, so handsome and so beautiful (inside and out) who, in a very short time, helped me find myself again with just a few simple words.

We spent a few hours talking about our views of the future and I'll never forget the shock I registered when he said he saw in his future “3.4 kids” (at that time, the national average). It was the first time in my short life that I'd ever heard a man close to my age talking about children without open fear or disgust. It dawned on me then that maybe I didn't have to feel embarrassed about my aspirations toward motherhood and marriage. Maybe, just maybe, the world needed another good mom as much as it needed good lawyers, good doctors, good judges, good journalists, etc.

I wasn't naïve when it came to understanding that I needed to be a whole person before I could undertake this role I desperately wished for. In my young, 20 year old mind, that meant only one thing...it was time to sow some wild oats, cultivate friendships, discover myself and become self-sufficient and happy with myself. Well, the sowing lasted about two years and was full of passion and a lot of heartache and confidence busters. I had much better luck with cultivating a friendship. (Note: Friendship. Singular. Only one friend. It's all I needed....I thought. That will play into the rest of the story, you'll see soon.)

As for discovering myself, well, I'm 37 and still discovering who I am as a woman, as a child of God, as a Mother and as a daughter and sister. And that leads me back to where I started this story: How I got to where I am today.

Part 3

I slowed down on the wild oats by age 23. I was tired of the passionate arguments that often arose out of jealousy and insecurity. I was tired of men who fled the moment commitment entered the picture. I was a pretty girl back then and there was no shortage of men to choose from but after two years they all seemed to be the same man. And none of them compared to the one man I measured them all by... The one man who briefly entered my life and shared a heartfelt admission of his desire for a future family. (Not with me but with his future life partner and how I envied whoever she turned out to be.) To me he was a noble example of a rare find and I spent a long time looking for someone just like him. Surely, he couldn't have been the only one on this great big green planet.

But it was beginning to feel that way.

And so I got off the merry-go-round.

As soon as the world stopped spinning my life slowed down and that's when I was able to examine everything about my life...where I was, where I wanted to be and where I had been heading for far too long. Nowhere in sight was Motherhood.

And that's when my real journey began...a journey that would take me on highs and lows and even to the brink of death...